


The Third Date

by bluefay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bed Sex, Come Eating, Dating, Established Relationship, F/F, Intimacy, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24300001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluefay/pseuds/bluefay
Summary: For their third date, Hermione was expecting a lovely dinner out. Pansy, on the other hand, had different plans.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 110
Collections: HP Inspired by Imagery Fest - 2020





	The Third Date

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! This is my first time writing smut, so please be tender with me!! A huge thank you to my wonderful betas! And, as always, thank you for reading <3

Hermione tapped the heel of her stiletto against the interior panel of her oak desk as she absently combed through the large stack of files in front of her. A soft honey colored light filtered in through the paned window of her third story office, casting a golden veil over the late autumn afternoon. Gnawing on the tip of her ballpoint pen, which she found to be far more effective than a quill when plowing through heaps of paperwork, she looked up at the clock on the wall opposite her. Only five more minutes.

Outside of her closed door, she could make out the sounds of papers being shuffled back into filing cabinets and trinkets on desks being magically realigned once again. Somewhere down the hall came a loud laugh, followed by the sounds of boisterous Friday night cheers from her colleagues filling the air of the Muggle Liaison Office. 

At long last, the clock struck five, and Hermione scooted back in her chair. Without a moment’s thought, she gathered her things, layered on her coat and scarf, and headed out for the weekend.

Although she had managed to pass her Apparition test once the war was over, she still preferred the sensation of driving her own muggle car to and from work. As she climbed into her BMW, which was parked in the alley beside her office building, the amber sun was swallowed by the black horizon. She shielded her eyes as she pulled onto the road. It was only then that she pushed the small white button on the dashboard. Slowly, her car, which had previously been invisible to the naked eye, rippled into view as she coasted down the road, merging into traffic.

By the time Hermione pulled into the car park of her flat, she was already running thirty minutes late. As she closed the car door, she checked her reflection in the dusty window. Frowning at the state of her appearance, she hastily tied her brown corkscrew curls in a loose knot on top of her head. And, as she felt that she needed one last final touch, she popped open the second button of her crisp red collared shirt, revealing a slight line of cleavage against her umber brown skin. She sighed, brushing a stray ringlet of hair away from her face. Giving herself one last disapproving look, she turned away without hesitation. That would have to do.

Her flat was located on the corner of the sixth floor, looking out onto a small park that was hidden on the outskirts of London. She gingerly wiped her faux patent leather heels on the neat welcome mat that sat in front of her door before pushing it open.

As soon as she walked into her flat, she spotted a pair of black heels, which had been haphazardly strewn across the floor of the entryway. Hermione rolled her eyes, placing them neatly against the wall before taking her own shoes off. In the distance, she could hear the sound of running water. 

“Pansy? I’m home!” Hermione yelled, placing her keys on the kitchen counter, along with her handbag, before heading towards the bedroom. There, she tripped on a pile of disrobed clothing that consisted of a white blouse and a well-tailored pair of black pinstripe trousers. On the plush duvet cover that was stretched neatly over the bed were discarded lace panties, as well as a sheer black bralette. Having only gone on a few dates with Pansy, this was a first. They had agreed to meet at Hermione’s flat and go from there to a restaurant, but it was apparent that Pansy had other plans.

She turned to the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom, watching wisps of steam curl out from the door that was cracked slightly open. Behind the sound of water streaming out of the tub faucet, she could make out the soft, thin sound of glass knocking against itself. Curious, she peeked her head in.

Pansy, who was sitting cross-legged in the mostly filled tub, was in the midst of pouring champagne into two tall, expensive flutes. Soft, transparent purple bubbles covered her body, reaching all the way up to her narrow chest. Her midnight black hair, which fell just past her chin, had been wetted slightly, and a coy smile played on her lips as she blinked up at Hermione.

“Hi, Granger. Didn’t hear you come in,” Pansy greeted her, setting the flutes, as well as the bottle of champagne, down on a side table next to the tub. Absently, she poured several tablespoons of bath salt into the running water.

“H-hi,” Hermione stuttered, watching as Pansy leaned back against the wall of the tub, champagne glasses in hand. 

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to get in?” Pansy smirked, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes! I mean yes. Merlin, one second,” Hermione muttered, squeezing out of the bathroom door and closing it tightly shut behind her.

She paced a few rounds before perching herself on the edge of her bed. She let out a large, breathless sigh. “Shite.”

She swore she could feel her heart beating out of her chest, and nervous buds of sweat began to form on her cupid’s bow. Biting her lip, she felt a stirring between her legs at the thought of Pansy lounging naked in her bathtub. She heard the water click off.

Before she could lose her nerve, Hermione quickly stripped herself of her blouse, pencil skirt, stockings, bra, and panties. Not bothered to pick them up, she left them in a heap on the bed. She stepped hesitantly towards the bathroom, only to catch her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. There she stood, wide waist and gentle curves protruding over her stocky hips. Her stomach, arms, and breasts were riddled with white jagged stretch marks, and she wondered if she looked good enough. Not wanting to think too deeply about it, she took a deep breath and then pushed the door open.

Pansy was in the same position she had left her in, a smirk still plastered across her face. As Hermione crept towards the bathtub, she could feel Pansy’s eyes taking her in. Slipping into the hot water, she let out a sigh of relief as she adjusted herself across from Pansy, leaning back against the edge of the tub. As soon as Pansy handed over her glass of champagne, she took a large swig. 

“So,” Hermione began, blushing, “what happened to going out to dinner?”

Pansy took a swig of her drink before putting it down on the side table. “Well, I decided our time together could be used in a much more valuable way.”

Hermione bit her lip. “Oh?”

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Pansy said softly. Hermione could feel a burning heat spreading to her abdomen as Pansy stretched slightly forward, slowly beginning to trace circles on her thigh.

“I don’t,” Hermione murmured, also setting her champagne flute down. 

“Then why don’t you come here?” Pansy suggested, her pupils dilated.

Hermione swallowed thickly, making her way through the suds and onto Pansy’s lap, straddling her. The feeling of skin on skin sent a tight, aching jolt straight to her core. Wrapping her arms around Pansy’s long, elegant neck, she smiled softly.

“Isn’t this only our third date?” Hermione asked as Pansy pressed light, gentle kisses to her collar bones, trailing up to her neck.

“Are you complaining?” Pansy asked absently, licking the soft hollow between Hermione’s collarbone and shoulder. She gasped, closing her eyes.

“No. Certainly not.”

Pansy brought their faces close together, cupping Hermione’s cheek. In a voice almost too low to hear, she asked, “may I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, Hermione pressed their mouths together with a passionate suddenness. Pansy’s lips were soft, and they tasted like vanilla chapstick. Tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of Pansy’s neck, she pulled herself closer. She let out a low groan in the back of her throat as Pansy thrusted her hips upward. 

Hermione’s clit ached, needing desperately to be touched, and so she continued to grind down on Pansy’s lap. Their kiss was rough and hot, tongues meeting each other with a fierce neediness that she had never felt before. 

Suddenly, Pansy’s long, delicate fingers were at Hermione’s breast, leaving ghostly traces over her nipples. Hermione moaned, tilting her head back as Pansy gently twisted them. 

“I need more,” Hermione gasped through pants, their lips still locked together. 

“Stand up, then,” Pansy instructed. 

Without questioning her, Hermione did as told, carefully standing up. Pansy followed.

“Put your foot up on the edge of the tub, and face the wall,” Pansy directed, guiding Hermione’s hips into position. She braced herself, using the towel rack on the wall as a way of steadying herself. Pansy came up behind her, cupping her breasts. 

In Hermione’s ear, Pansy whispered, “are you ready?”

Hermione nodded, spreading her thighs apart as she propped her right leg up on the lip of the bathtub. A finger began to gently rub her throbbing clit.

“Fuck. God, just fuck me, Pansy,” Hermione pleaded.

Without warning, two fingers were deep inside her, thrusting in and out. She could feel Pansy twisting inside her, and a tingling sensation spread all over her aching body.

“Harder,” Hermione panted, leaning her forehead against the wall.

Pansy picked up speed, hitting the spot inside her that she desperately longed for. 

“Merlin, you’re so wet for me. Can you feel how wet you are?” Pansy asked breathlessly, pounding into the opening between her legs. 

“Yes! More,” Hermione pleaded, wanting as much of Pansy inside her as she could get.

Pansy added a third finger, the fast burn of the extra digit stretching Hermione more than she ever had been before. The place between her legs opened willingly, taking each powerful thrust of Pansy’s fingers with gratitude.

Hermione could feel herself getting closer, her body hurting as though it was on fire. She let herself push back onto Pansy’s fingers with every deep movement.

“Fuck!” Hermione cried. She could feel come trickling down her inner thighs. 

Pansy continued to thrust inside her until the wave of ecstasy had eased and then slipped her fingers out of her. Hermione turned around, coming face to face with Pansy, who was gently licking the come off of her fingers.

“I have never,” Hermione began, closing the distance between them, “been fucked like that before.”

“Why don’t you repay me, then?” Pansy prompted, a pleading in her voice.

“Get on the bed,” Hermione instructed. 

Pansy nodded, stepping out of the bath. Hermione followed, casting a drying charm on the both of them. Once in the bedroom, Hermione pushed Pansy back onto the bed, kissing her with a strong desire to make her ache as much as she had.

Without warning, Hermione made her way down to the area between Pansy’s spread legs. There, she began to gently suck on the soft skin where her thigh met her labia, soft black hairs tickling her face. Pansy gasped, bucking her hips upwards. Hermione continued to suck.

“Stop teasing me,” Pansy groaned, tangling her fingers in Hermione’s curls.

Hermione smiled to herself as she pressed her tongue to Pansy’s swollen clit, lapping at the salty wetness. 

“Fuck, Granger,” Pansy murmured huskily. She began to fuck Hermione’s face, pressing downwards in a smooth pattern.

Hermione began to speed up, licking Pansy’s clit with a hopeless want. As she licked Pansy, she slipped two fingers inside her. 

“Oh my god,” Pansy cried, pulling Hermione’s hair. Hermione thrust in and out with speed, going as deep into her as she could. 

Pansy panted. “I’m going to come.”

With one final deep thrust, Pansy spilled over the edge. Hermione moved her tongue from Pansy’s clit to her opening, prodding it inside. She could taste the salty bitterness as she lapped it up. 

When Pansy’s body fell limp, Hermione climbed out from in between her legs. She tucked herself next to Pansy, laying her head on her rapidly rising and falling chest. 

“So, how was that?” Hermione asked shyly, tracing circles around Pansy’s hard, dusky nipples.

“Fucking incredible. Up for round two?” Pansy asked.

Hermione grinned. “On all fours, Parkinson.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2020 HP Inspired by Imagery Fest, an on-going anonymous fest. Authors will be revealed once all works are posted.
> 
> Comments and kudos are hugely appreciated.


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